


Happy Birthday

by hallulawy



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, not a single bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 03:30:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6357160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hallulawy/pseuds/hallulawy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They celebrate Finch's birthday together this year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> Of course I don't know when's Harold's birthday, this is another product of writeordie (I'm really not promoting it, trust me).  
> I just love fluff so much (if you saw my doodles before, you'd know I'm a sucker for it).

Finch could hardly believe what is in front of him when he opens his eyes.

He is a romantic at heart, so he would at the very least expect a candle light dinner or a star adorned night sky on a chilly wind height when John proposed to have him for dinner. That was what he would expect from a proper dinner date before the harbour incident.

Now, he would be taken aback with glee if John manages to come back in one piece with their Chinese takeouts from the job. Even though he never get the orders right, he always confuse the sweet and sour chicken with kung pao chicken, causing him watery-eyed and gasping for water.

So when the blindfold was removed, recognizing the dim setting by the pendant lamps instead of the usual ceiling lighting (of course he knew, he chose them) in John’s flat,he did not expect to see a cake with his name on it.

The cake was embellished with a mint green chocolate piece saying ‘Happy Birthday Harold ’on top and some silver balls to adorn his name like they were season ornaments on a Christmas tree.

Blinking twice, he took in the sight of his co-worker standing across the table. He didn’t realise that he knew.

'When?’ Harold whispers, as he gulps in the thin sweet air around him, his tiny words barely reaching John’s ears.

'I made a wild guess when you were looking at cakes yesterday. I know you well enough to feel your enamour with deserts.’ John laughs, as he proceeds to take out some candles.

'That wouldn’t prove much.’

'No it wouldn’t. I just saw you opening Will’s birthday card in Harold Wren’s office,’ John shrugs, as though privacy invasion should be a norm and proceed to stab the candles into the cake. He took out a silver lighter, which surprises Finch even more as he knew that John does not smoke.

'It’s not mine.’

He passes it to Finch.

'I don’t like fire that much,’ He said with an innocent smile hanging on the edge of his lips and a glint of mischief in his eyes, urging Harold to take a good look at the lighter.

 _To him, Harold Finch_. Thin Italics on the top of the lighter case, engraved like swan silhouettes on the surface of a glass pond.

‘… Thank you, Mr. Reese.’ He managed to croak. It’s just a lighter, he chided himself, but he couldn’t help but grin at his co-worker.

'Light them up.’

He did so, lighting the candles carefully as he is not a big fan of arson. He intentionally lit four big candles instead of five, making Reese raise his eyebrows in astonishment.

'Age can be faked too, Mr Reese.’

'I feel so enlightened now.’

'So was Nathan.’

Now that John turned off all the lights, with only the candle fire to illuminate their contours, he starts to hum the happy birthday song.

He’s a good hummer, Harold has to give him that.

So he blew out the candles when the song is finished, leaving the both of them in darkness while feeling a warm push against his lips, like the softest cotton being applied onto his wounds.

Then the usual lights flicked on, and John stood there with his characteristic wolfish grin.

Harold isn’t too sure about his current demeanour, but judging by how wide John’s smirk is, he could bet that his face isn’t in the most appealing state of carmine.

'Happy Birthday Harold.’

This time, he swoops in for another kiss, but before it lands, he misses and his lips presses onto Harold’s pink cheeks.

'I am fairly certain that one is good enough for you now, Mr. Reese.’

Harold looks at him, trying to be bold, and immediately pecks him on the lips like how an actual finch would.

'I am thankful, John.’

Sincerely so, before smearing some frosting onto John’s nose.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> My tumblr: hallulawy.tumblr.com


End file.
